


Choco Joe And The No Good Council

by TrishaCollins



Series: Babysitting And Other Royal Duties [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Clarus is enjoying his suffering, Cor is a nervous parent, Gen, Prompto uses his words, Regis is just trying to run a country
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 02:53:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishaCollins/pseuds/TrishaCollins
Summary: Prompto spends the day in the council chamber and tries using his words.





	Choco Joe And The No Good Council

Someone – he was sure it was Clarus – had left an entire box full of baby things outside his office. Blankets, clothes in varying sizes, some toys he assumed a baby might enjoy, and a stuffed chocobo. 

He could be angry about it, but there was a certain amount of malicious pleasure to be had in sitting in a council meeting with Prompto on his lap, wrapped up in a Choco Joe blanket and quietly chewing on a rubber ring. 

The rest of the council was trying very hard not to pay the baby any mind, and Prompto was obliging them by staying silent.

Having spent more than his fair share of afternoons with Prince Noctis and the king, he knew this was an aberration in and of itself. But Prompto would only start making that eerie noise of his if he dared put him down.

Curled up on his lap, surrounded by old fools debating the fate of the nation? He was certain it was enough to lull anyone into a deep, restful sleep. Prompto certainly seemed to be heading that way.

“How are the new recruits doing?” Clarus asked, giving Prompto a look that meant his old friend was trying to include the toddler in the numbers.

“Well enough. Still working their inability to recognize that the king’s magic does not cover openings. I imagine in another few months we can send them out.” He circled his thumb behind Prompto’s ear, the soft fuzz of hair the little guy was starting to grow prickly under his finger. 

“Months. Do we have months?” One of the councilwomen murmured. 

“I am not sending them out there like this. They’re kids.” Prompto burbled something that sounded like a counterpoint. “They need training or all they’ll be is fodder.” Another soft burble. “We have as much time as we need. The wall will hold.”

“I only meant…” The woman trailed off, furrowing her brow at Prompto, who had turned to frown at her.

Regis snorted and tried to turn it into a cough. “The Marshal is right, we have time. More time than people. I will not have men and women sent to the wall to die. That is the end of the matter.” 

Prompto settled against his chest, back to drowsily cuddling.

Clarus was laughing behind his hand, the asshole. 

He patted the kid’s back, approving. 

Prompto sighed softly, nuzzling into his chest contently. “Cw…” 

 

Regis didn’t manage to turn the snort into a cough this time, and Clarus was near tears. 

He kept his face neutral, refusing to acknowledge the mangling of his name as anything significant. He would have been told if Prompto had started talking, as far as he knew aside from the low pitched animal sound and the occasional burble he wasn’t making much progress on language development. 

But that had sounded like his name, sort of, in the same way Noctis saying “Daddy” sounded like anything to anyone except Regis. 

“Any other matters we need to address?” Regis asked, trying not to look at him. 

He had always been bad at that, he was sure everyone could tell that he was laughing and trying to hide it. 

He loved his king dearly, but his friends were taxing him greatly recently. Fatherhood was beginning to seem like some sort of cult, with his friends’ intent on inducting him into the strange brotherhood of stories about their children and what the little goblins were doing with their time. Prompto was adopted, he was only watching the child due to a fright that had made the little boy somehow cross town to find him.

It had nothing to do with any affections he might hold for the child. 

“No? Thank you for coming, then. We will speak again in one weeks time. Cor, Clarus, with me please.” Regis clapped his hands, startling Prompto back to a brief moment of wary wakefulness that warmed his heart. 

The child frowned at the king, then pressed his face back into his chest, pulling his blanket over his head.

“Oh six, how does he look like you?” Clarus chortled, no longer making any effort to hide his laughter. “That surly frown!” 

“He does not look like me.” He protested vaguely. 

“Was that his first word?” Regis asked, mild, but his eyes were twinkling. 

Who needed the Nifs when he had dear friends like these? “I have no idea. His mother hasn’t told me if he’s talking or not.”

“He said your name! And he got mad that someone was arguing with you. I wish Gladio were half as loyal, he always takes his mother’s side on things.” Clarus grinned. “Too perfect.” 

He sighed. “What did you need of me, Majesty?” 

“Is it Prom’s nap time? Do you need to go change his butt?” Clarus teasted. 

“He really does seem to have a strong connection with you.” Regis murmured. 

“He is adopted. He has parents.” He shifted Prompto to his shoulder. “Who care for him, I am sure. He simply gets alarmed when they try to do routine medical things. Understandably, though I doubt they will understand it.” He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but knew he had failed when Regis gave him a truly sympathetic look. 

“Please let us know if we can help.” Regis said.

He grunted in response, tucking Prompto’s blanket around him and standing. “I should get him back to where he belongs.”

Clarus laughed quietly behind him.

He ignored his friend, marching towards the door. 

He always hated taking Prompto back, no matter how long the little guy had stayed with him. But he had spent almost all day looking after the little boy, and really, with the considerable stipend he knew that Insomnia gave to adoptive parents, that should be the job of his parents. 

No matter how much Prompto might prefer that matters were settled otherwise.

“Cw.” Prompto muttered against his shoulder. “Cw.”

“Yeah, Kid. That’s me.” He whispered, but made himself keep walking. 

When it came down to it, he was in no way stable enough to be a parent. One of these days he wasn’t going to come back, and while he trusted Regis and Clarus, he didn’t want to put a kid through that. Besides, the ink was dry. The matter was settled. 

That was the end of it.


End file.
